


Risk and Reward

by XaviaAndromedovna



Series: Daily Fic Drabbles Table A [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3x2, M/M, Pre-Slash, Probably Canon Divergent, TW: biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XaviaAndromedovna/pseuds/XaviaAndromedovna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles asks for the bite to try and even things up a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risk and Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Numbers

They’ve all crunched the numbers; they know they’re screwed.  But, _of course_ , Stiles is the first one to say something about it.

“Derek, I’m serious.  There are FIVE ALPHAS.  And all we have is your angry eyes, Uncle Bad Touch, the cuddle monster, and Scott on a good day.  Oh yeah, and two rogue betas OOPS.  You need all the help you can get.”

“He’s right,” Peter smirks.

“No he’s not.  Stiles, what makes you think that you’d be in fighting condition by the time the alphas make their move?  I don’t need to be worrying about you trying to kill someone on top of everything else.”

“I thought that was the whole point…” Isaac murmurs to Peter.  Derek scowls at him.

“If you’re worried about me pulling a Scott, I think I’m a _little_ more prepared for this than he was.”

“Not by much, and speaking of Scott, why are you even asking me?  You realize this would make you part of _my_ pack, right?”

“Well, duh.  Scott can’t exactly have a pack as an omega.”

“Yes,” Peter cuts in.  “But you’re his best friend.  When this is all over you’re more likely to ride off into the sunset with him than stick with us.”

“Okay, so Scott isn’t the best at teamwork.  But I’m not an idiot.  I know that we can’t do this alone.  We don’t stand a _chance_ without you, and we’ve proven multiple times that you would be stupid to do this without us.”

“Without Scott, maybe.”

Ouch.  Stiles takes a step back.  When he speaks again, his voice is quiet and rough.

“You think I don’t know I’m just in the way most of the time?  I’m trying my best to help your crazy wolf asses not die, but I’m pretty much useless and it hurts.  I just thought that—“

“That we need another out of control wolf running around?”  Derek looks equal parts pissed off (AKA neutral Derek) and worried, which is just weird.  He gets in Stiles’ face and whispers so softly that Stiles feels it on his lips more than he hears it.  “Stiles, I’m only going to say this once.  You’re not useless.  You’re smart and resourceful and you’re frustratingly brave.”  Stiles blushes.  “But you’re also safer as a human.”

“I don’t feel safe.  And furthermore, if you don’t bite me, one of the other alphas might.  Alright?  It’s pretty much inevitable for me at this point, so I at least want to do it on my own terms.”

Derek winces at that.  “Do you want to be a werewolf?”

“Yes, I’ve been fricking saying that the past five minutes!”

“No, I mean if there were no danger, would you rather be a human or a werewolf?”

Stiles freezes.  He’s always been content with being a human, never really knew any different until last year.  But he’s always been curious what it would be like not to worry about eating healthy, or tripping over everything, _or dying too soon and leaving his dad alone_.

During this inner turmoil, Peter has come from his place on the staircase and placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.  “It’s okay to want this for yourself, Stiles.”

Normally, creepy Peter creeping would bother him, but this is what he needed to hear.  He looks at the three of them and nods with conviction.

“I want it.”

Derek can hear it’s not a lie.  He nods, resigned, and as his eyes glow red Stiles lifts his shirts off.

And if Stiles gets a little hard when Derek’s teeth sink into his flesh, that’s just a bonus.

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf is not mine.


End file.
